


It's not about the crêpes, ILLUSTRATED, NSFW, for the "Grow Better!" Holiday Swap gift exchange

by GayDemonicDisaster (scrapheapchallenge)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Is Trying (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Bastille - Freeform, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fanart, M/M, NSFW Art, Protective Crowley, Service Top Crowley (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Top Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:29:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27925300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrapheapchallenge/pseuds/GayDemonicDisaster
Summary: My first NSFW fan art, along with a lovely smutty fic to accompany it, Crowley has rescued Aziraphale from the Bastille, but knows something is up, and isn't about to let the angel off that easily without an explanation. Over crêpes, he gets his bastard angel to confess his true motivations.My prompt was "long hair Crowley, Bastille era, NSFW please". I actually forgot I'd signed up for art, and hadn't actually done any NSFW art yet, so it was a challenge, but I'm really happy with how this came out.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 232
Collections: Grow Better / Scribbling Vaguely Downwards - Holiday Swap '20, Top Crowley Library





	It's not about the crêpes, ILLUSTRATED, NSFW, for the "Grow Better!" Holiday Swap gift exchange

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Crowley_Kitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowley_Kitten/gifts).



> My gift for my friend Crowley_kitten for the Grow Better! Holiday Swap gift exchange. The organisers didn't actually realise that we knew each other a few years before the online Good Omens fandom took off, so it was lovely to be able to send her another gift that I knew she'd love.
> 
> HERE BE NUDITY! 18+ only. 
> 
> I was SO relieved that the drawing came out pretty much exactly how I hoped it would, and really happy that my first proper smutty drawing is a gift for someone I know will appreciate it.

… It was never about the crêpes. Not really, that was blindingly obvious anyway. Crowley sat silently and watched as Aziraphale enjoyed the food, as always, occasionally looking up and beaming at Crowley between bites. Crowley’s face remained carefully blank. 

“What was this all about Angel, really?” He finally asked, quietly. 

“Hmm?” Aziraphale affected an air of innocent, polite incomprehension, that cut zero ice with the demon. 

“You didn’t need me to rescue you. That was a flimsy excuse, so what was _that,”_ he waved an arm vaguely, “... all about?” 

“I told you, I was reprimanded for too many frivolous miracles, and…”

Crowley cut him off. “And worst case scenario you’d get a light ‘reprimand’ for another, or more likely they’d not begrudge you use of a miracle to get out of an _actual_ discorporation. Seeing how much work it is to make you a new one, I’m sure they’d rather you kept the original corporation safe by any means necessary than take up resources needing a fresh body. Try again.”

Aziraphale put his fork down and bit his lip. 

“I’m sorry for putting you out, Crowley, I shan’t do it again.” He said, tightly. 

“Wrong answer, and no, never apologise for needing my help. You didn’t put me out, you never did, and never could. No deflecting. _Why?”_

“Why what?”

“Why put yourself in that position, why contrive that entire scene? You could have just written me a coded letter if you wanted to meet up and discuss things.”

“This wasn’t about the Arrangement, Crowley…” He stopped as he saw the demon’s eyebrow raised high above his tiny sunglasses. “... Well, not entirely anyway.”

“Not entirely?”

“I… I’ve been helping you with temptations and suchlike for a while now, and you’ve been helping me, and I, er, I suppose I wanted an excuse to ask you to accompany me to lunch to say thank you?”

“No. Try again. Besides, we cover for each other, that’s thanks enough.” Crowley took a breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look. I’m going to be straight with you, Angel. I could taste the lust in there. It was rolling off you in _waves_. You prettied yourself up in your finest clothes, showed off those shapely calves and ankles, got yourself locked up, played the damsel in distress, and waited for me to pick up on the sensation of you being in danger somewhere.”

Aziraphale stared at him, wide-eyed, temporarily lost for words. The blush rising up his chest, flushing his cheeks, making him feel awkwardly over-warm. He cleared his throat and muttered under his breath, eyes darting around the room nervously, anxious that they might be overheard. 

“I think, perhaps, that this is a conversation that we ought to have somewhere a little more private.” 

Crowley nodded, and snapped. All of a sudden the pair of them were in the darkened rooms of a fancy townhouse nearby. It clearly belonged to some wealthy Parisienne who had covered up all the furniture in dust sheets and fled, seeking to escape being seized. Probably gone to their countryside chateau. Crowley doubted they’d ever be back. He snapped his fingers to light a few candles around the place. The windows were shuttered, no one would know they were here. He drew up a chair and lounged back on it, indicating that the angel should follow suit. Aziraphale sat down on a cloth-covered chaise lounge nervously, hands twined tightly together on his knees. 

“Go on, then.” Crowley invited, and snapped a bottle of wine from the cellar, then two glasses from the scullery. He removed his sunglasses and set them aside, eyeing Aziraphale with an expectant look as he poured. “Explain.”

* * *

Aziraphale accepted the glass of wine and took a sip, steeling his nerves. 

“I can still taste the lust by the way,” Crowley remarked idly, sipping at his own wine. “You can’t hide _that_ from me, never have been able to.” 

“Never?” Azirpahale squeaked in alarm, almost spitting wine. 

“Never,” Crowley reaffirmed coolly. “Not in all the aeons I’ve known you, Angel.”

“So you knew, all this time?” Aziraphale whispered. Crowley nodded. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Just an observation. Why would I be offended by your attraction to me?”

“You’ve never shown any inclination that it might be reciprocated,” Aizraphale began, then stuttered to a halt at the sheer affronted look of incredulity on the demon’s face. He paused to think, his mind only now running through every interaction they’d ever had together, every time Crowley had bent over backwards to help him, never saying no. Even things that could have got the demon in no end of trouble from below, it was never a problem, never too much. 

He’d indulged Aziraphale with the finest wines, fanciest delicacies, gifted him opulent silks in the colours he knew the angel liked, brought him tablets, papyruses, scrolls, and then books from all around the globe. He’d collected songs, poetry and literature he thought would keep him entertained, taken him to musical concerts and theatrical productions. And he had never, ever, asked anything in return. 

His mouth fell open in silent realisation. 

“...Oh.”

He looked up and met Crowley’s eyes in sudden understanding. “Oh Crowley, you did, didn’t you? I’ve been such a fool, you’ve been showing me all along, and I’ve just been pretending it wasn’t anything. I…,” tears brimmed in his eyes, and Crowley’s expression softened with sympathy. “I’m so sorry, Crowley. It may have been a case of me denying acknowledging it to keep us safe. I think I was…” Crowley cut him off. 

“Shhh, doesn’t matter now. I knew, Aziraphale, I’ve always known. That’s why I gave you space. You needed to realise in your own time. But when you went out of your way to try and use those temptation skills back at me… what were you expecting?”

Aziraphale stared at his wine glass clasped in his hands resting on his knees, avoiding the demon’s intense gaze. 

“I suppose I hoped you’d find me… attractive, maybe you’d be titillated by seeing me all chained up and… and…”

“...And what? Shove you up against a wall and kiss you?”

Aziraphale’s head shot up and he stared, wide-eyed in surprise. 

“That was it, wasn’t it?”

The angel nodded. 

“I thought you might see me all helpless there and perhaps you’d finally see that I wanted you, and, and…”

“And?”

“... and want to fuck me.”

“No.”

Aziraphale’s expression moved from embarrassment through shock to hurt confusion. 

he backpedalled furiously, flustered. “I’m so sorry Crowley, I shouldn’t have assumed, I…”

Crowley stood, took a stride over to where the angel sat, and knelt before him. 

“Aziraphale, I’ve never wanted to _fuck_ you.” He swayed forwards and captured his lips in a kiss, slow, gentle, but passionate, with love pouring through it. He broke off after an interminable amount of time, resting his forehead against the angel’s. 

“... I have, however, always wanted to _make love to you.”_

“O...oh…” Aziraphale breathed gently, feeling Crowley’s fingers running tenderly through his hair. He looked down to see Crowley’s other hand resting on his knee, a warm comforting weight there. 

“Aziraphale, did you honestly think I’m such a savage demon that my ideal scenario to make love to you for the first time would be to take you chained up in a cold wet dungeon? You were trying to appeal to some horrible base lustful desire that you imagined I must have due to my nature? You think I’d want my precious angel in discomfort, iron shackles chafing at your wrists, hard stone against your soft skin?”

Crowley kissed Aziraphale’s cheek tenderly. “Angel, you deserve far better than that.” He sat back on his heels and gestured around them. “A palatial Aristo’s Paris residence, soft candlelight, the finest wine, a silken chaise lounge…” He stroked up Aziraphale’s thigh in a light caress. “... This is more what I had in mind, this is what you deserve. All this and more.”

“Crowley, I’d make love to you on a windswept moor and it would still be all I’d ever wanted.” He gave a shy smile, then reached up and tugged at Crowley’s simple black cravat, then used it to tug the demon’s lips back to meet his own again, then began teasing at the knot to slide the cravat from his neck. He felt Crowley tugging at his own, then shrugging off his frock coat. 

* * *

Aziraphale wasn’t entirely sure how they’d ended up completely naked, it had been a haze of kisses and fumbling, panted urgent breaths against each other’s necks. But now Crowley’s body was pressed against his, skin hot, pulse thudding, ribs heaving with each breath, fingers trembling as they skimmed over each curve of Aziraphale’s form. 

He could feel the demon’s shaft firm against his thigh, and grasped at those lithe hips, feeling them rolling against him as Crowley nipped gently at his neck, then slithered lower, kissing his way down until he was kissing at Aziraphale’s cock, then lapping from the base to the tip, tongue wet and deft in its movements, worshipping his length.

“Oh Crowley…” he gasped out, grabbing at his carefully coiffed red hair, not caring at how much he was messing up those perfect curls. Crowley massaged his balls even as his tongue went to work, then fingers were moving lower, slicked up and exploring, massaging around his hole and sending shivers up the angel’s spine. 

Crowley lifted his head to check in. It took Aziraphale a moment to realise and he lifted his own to meet Crowley’s gaze. “This aright, Aziraphale? You want this?” His fingers still moving in slow circles. Aziraphale nodded hurriedly. 

“All this and more, Crowley, please…”

Crowley nodded and bent his head to his task once more, then slid a long digit in just as he sucked down on Aziraphale’s cock, deep throating him, and reaching up to circle his prostate with a light touch that sent silver stars sparkling up his spine. Aziraphale tipped his head back with a gasp and allowed himself to float on the waves of pleasure, euphoric. 

Aziraphale could feel those skilled fingers twirling deep inside, teasing more and more sensations from him, curling up through his core, tickling at his mind and making him shiver with delight, lost in the heady exhilaration of it all. 

Then Crowley’s lips were lifting off him, fingers retreating, and the demon was kissing his way up Aizraphale’s body again, slowly and reverently. He worshipped each curve of the angel’s form as he meandered his way up, before arriving before his lips once more, drinking in his beauty, and then pressing their lips together in a deep sensual kiss. 

“Are you ready, Angel?”

“More than ready, Crowley.”

Crowley kissed him deeply again, and then slid in. He slid a hand down to grip Aziraphale’s backside, while his other shifted around his shoulders to hold him close, sinking ever deeper with a satisfied low hiss. Aziraphale keened, face screwed up tight at the sweetness of the stretch, feeling Crowley bury his length deep inside him, nudging past his prostate, giving him a delicious fullness, too much yet not enough. 

The demon bottomed out, having taken it slow, careful not to hurt his lover, and hesitated, pausing to kiss his angel some more, before gradually beginning to rock his hips - just a little at first, then growing bolder. Aziraphale clung close to him, seeking more contact, then wrapped his thighs around Crowley’s slim hips, locking his ankles behind his slender waist, forbidding any idea of escape, not that Crowley had any such inclination at this point. 

Crowley continued to festoon his angel with kisses on every inch of him within reach, whispering sweet nothings into his ear as he made love to him. He uttered fragments of poems and love songs, some long since forgotten by mankind, in all the languages of the world, ancient and modern. Every line that reminded him of Aziraphale through the ages, every fragment he’d longed to speak or sing to him, he now let flow out in a steady stream of praise, worshipping the angel below him, until Aziraphale wanted to cry with the sweetness. 

Aziraphale fought to recall similar lines he’d imagined about Crowley over the centuries as well, but the ecstasy he was being subjected to quite drove any such recall from his mind entirely, and all he could do was whimper repeated affirmations, and beg for more. Crowley granted it, over and over and over. Every touch divine, every word that spilled from his lips filled with adoration. It was overwhelming, and the angel found himself tightening up with impending explosion, something hot and urgent coiling up in the pit of his stomach, quivering down his thighs, making him shake and gasp. 

[ _(Can't see the image? Click HERE.)_ ](http://ukshires.net/AO3/nsfw/20-11-20NSFW-scan50.jpg)

Crowley was in the same boat, and tipped his head back as he thrust harder, exposing his beautiful long throat as they both lost themselves in the pleasure, exulting in the rapturous feeling. It was overwhelming - too much for a being to contain, and so they let it escape, both crying out at once. Azirpahale scrabbled for grip with one hand while clinging to Crowley with the other, as the demon spilled inside him with a satisfied growl that rumbled up from deep within his chest. He was overcome with a deep wave of protective possessiveness. He’d almost lost Aziraphale today - what if heaven hadn’t given him a new corporation? He could never let any harm come to his angel. Not now, not ever. Crowlely knew with complete certainty that he would protect him always, and never let anything happen to him again. 

Aziraphale could feel it - the sheer overwhelming cascade of love pouring off the demon, washing over his soul and wrapping him up in a blanket of adoration. It said _‘I’ll keep you safe, I’ll love you forever, always mine, always yours, never letting you go.’_ He could understand it as clearly as if Crowley had said it aloud. He didn’t need to hear the words, he could feel them, and he knew it was true. 

The demon lowered himself gently into Aziraphale’s loving embrace, wrapping around each other, wanting to stave off reality as long as possible and just remain in the moment, safe in each other’s arms. Crowley nuzzled into his lover’s shoulder, savouring the warm scent of him, being surrounded by angelic love. Aziraphale relished the contact, stroking down Crowley’s back. 

“Aziraphale?” Crowley whispered after a while. 

“Mmmm?”

“I want to give you this, when we can, when it’s safe. Well - as safe as we can be. Might not be often. But, I’m yours you know. I always have been.” He met the angel’s gaze, eyes glowing golden in the dimly lit room. “I love you.”

“I love you, Crowley,” Aziraphale echoed. “I know it’s a risk, we still need to keep distance, but yes, when we can, I want to be yours too.”

Crowley kissed him some more. “I’ll wait till the end of the world to be yours completely, you know.”

“If we have to, I will as well. We have all the time in the world, my love.”

“I’d stop time just to spend another moment with you.”

Something occurred to Aziraphale in that moment. He finally looked at the candle closest to them. The flame was unnaturally still. As was the next - none had burned down, or even flickered. 

“You… you just did, didn’t you? You stopped time again for this?”

Crowley nodded. “This moment can’t have happened, can’t be noticed by above or below if there was no time for it to have happened in. We’re outside of time right now. I created this moment for us to share.”

“Doesn’t that take an enormous amount of power? It must be incredibly draining on you.”

“Yeah, I’ll probably take a nap for a few months after this. Worth it though.”

Aziraphale was incredulous. Stopping time for a couple of minutes back in the Bastille had been impressive enough, but this was something else entirely. Crowley clearly had unplumbed depths of power that it was difficult to wrap his head around. 

“Oh _Crowley,”_ he murmured, and wrapped him up in a kiss again. After a few moments he reluctantly broke off again, conscious that the longer they spent wrapped up in one another, the longer Crowley was having to keep a tight hold of the grind of time fighting back against him. They should dress, and get back to plausible deniability once more. 

Crowley slid out, and they put themselves to rights, the warm afterglow marred by the knowledge that what they’d just done was forbidden, and wouldn’t be easy to repeat too often. Once dressed, Crowley drew him closer once more for a final kiss, stroking Aziraphale’s blonde curls affectionately, gazed deep into his eyes one last time, before replacing his shades, and finally letting go of his iron grip on the passage of time with a sigh and a shudder. He visibly sagged, and staggered slightly as the strain was dumped on him all in one go. 

“I should… should be getting back.” Crowley admitted. Aziraphale nodded sadly. 

“Yes, I suppose I should too.” His eyes met Crowley’s in a shared moment of understanding. Crowley snapped, and they were standing on the street outside. With a nod, he turned and left, leaving the angel bereft, standing alone, but with a small ember of hope in his heart. 


End file.
